Traust Faellan
by phoinos
Summary: COMPLETE. It hurts more than I thought it would, Shuichi... your betrayal.
1. Chapter One: Yuki

Well, finally. More than four years since I registered with and I'm actually posting a story. Gasp! Shock! So it's especially important that I get feedback for this, my first attempt. Please read and review. Even flaming is welcome, as long as it's constructive.

Traust Faellan was written about three years ago, when I was first getting into Gravitation and only knew about half the story. Therefore, any inconsistencies with the storylines of either the manga or the anime are a result of lack of knowledge... and laziness 'cause I just don't want to change anything in it. This is (and probably will always remain) the only Gravitation story I've ever written.

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides a TV, some books with pretty pictures, and a crazy imagination. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter One:Yuki

Shuichi… what have you done to me?

I've handled so much betrayal in my life. I'm used to it. You wondered why I'm so cynical all the time, and you should know the reason now. People betray you. They turn on you all the time, to beat you down and rend your soul with claws of hatred. I'm used to it, to guarding myself against future betrayals.

I… should be used to it.

I know I never seemed to care about you. You were so full of life, always bouncing everywhere like some kind of childish psycho. I still don't know why you latched onto me the way you did. You took a chance meeting and blew everything out of proportion. You came running to me with your new lyrics, as though you needed my approval to sing them. You forced your way into my life, into my apartment. You said you loved me.

I never loved you back. I know you wanted me to, but I can't. I wanted to avoid another betrayal. I tried to push you away, but you just kept coming back, like a yo-yo. The more I insulted you and acted cold to you, the more you'd cry and carry on but you never left me. I tried to make you leave me; I tried so much, but you always came back.

I don't understand why. Are you just naturally that dim-witted, that you couldn't understand I've been trying all along to get rid of you? Why would someone who's so vivacious and _alive_ waste such caring on someone like me, someone who's been ruined already?

You infected me. It's your fault. You always loved me, no matter what I did to you… and I fell into the idiocy of believing you always would. I got careless, and weak, letting my guard down. Relaxing my defenses a tiny bit. I thought I could trust you. I thought _you_, at least, would be the rare person who never betrayed me. After all the shit you put up with to stay with me, I just believed you'd always be there.

Those shallow and saccharine romance novels must be starting to infect me too.

Shuichi, what did you do to me?

I don't trust anyone, I don't let anyone close, but you broke through somehow. You made my apartment so loud; you brightened the room every time you came in. I would yell and roll my eyes and glare at you when you shouted my name like that… but my apartment is so empty and silent when you're not there. I used to like the silence, I used to crave it over socialization… but now whenever you're gone on tours, I can't stand how lifeless everything is. I would never have ever told you… but I'd even pop your songs on the CD player just to hear your voice, just to have your cheerfulness filling the room again. Crappy lyrics, but you've given them a life that reaches beyond the words and can hit the listener right in the gut.

You tore down my defenses. I hate you so much for it, because I'm here now with another betrayal hanging overhead… and I know this one will crush me into nothing.

I _trusted_ you. I believed you when you said you loved me. I let you in where no one has ever gotten in before. You said you'd never leave me.

How could you do this, Shuichi?

You said you loved me.

Out of all the emotions, love is the one that should never have been named. The word is so simple, so easy to say… and so rarely ever meant. Love should never have been given a word to express it, because true love isn't in the word, it's in the actions. "Love" should never be spoken. It should only be done. Words mean nothing. Speech is the ultimate deception. I _know_, because you said you loved me, you said you cared for me… and your actions prove you wrong.

You don't. You're just like everyone else. You pushed your way into my life because you wanted something. Probably my ear, as a way to get to Tohma, to get your crappy songs released. I _knew_ you wanted something. I _knew_, and I asked you, and you lied. And, goddammit, I believed you. I never thought you could be such a good actor.

_You_ are the reason I'm like this. People like you. You and Yuki. I trusted both of you, and you've both betrayed me. I thought nothing could ever hurt as much as when Yuki and those men attacked me, but you….

What did you do to me! How could you get me to open up, after so many years of living in defensive solitude, and then turn on me like this! How could I have let it happen, let my heart open up! I actually _felt_ something for you, you traitor. Whenever I looked at you, I felt warmer. I felt _safe_. You held me and protected me from all my old nightmares about Yuki, you took my abuse and gave only caring back in return. I thought I could depend on you.

I _hate_ you.

Because I was starting to care for you in return.

I was starting to love you.

I _hate_ you.

Because you let me think you loved me, and all along you were with that redheaded guitarist. You were doing him in our apartment. I even rushed home to see you again; I wanted to surprise you. I even brought back a damn souvenir for you, something gaudy and cheap that you'll scream and go insane over and carry with you everywhere until it breaks or wears out. I wanted to surprise you.

But you turned the tables.

I never asked for an explanation. I don't want excuses. There's not much you could say to excuse what you were doing with Hiro, on _our_ bed. In _our_ home. I don't want to hear it, anyway. So I just left.

You were screaming after me, running down the hallway in that dopey bathrobe of yours. You said you wanted to talk.

I don't want "talk." Talk is cheap. Words are worthless. Meaningless. You would just feed me lies, and I don't want you to lie to me anymore.

I don't want to hear "talk" ever again. I never want to "talk" ever again. I just want to go, and hide, and never remember.

Never remember the way you changed me, my life.

Never remember your smiles, your bawling, your "love."

It hurts more than I ever thought possible. Shuichi, I trusted you and loved you.

Yes, I loved you.

You betrayed me, and it hurts more than I can bear.

What have you done to me, Shuichi?

I don't return home—no. It can't be called "home" anymore.

I don't return to that apartment. I know you'll be waiting there, wanting to talk and explain. And what is there to explain? You were naked, on the bed, in a completely obvious position. The only real question to be answered is: how can you think there's anything to explain? Do you think there's anything you can say to absolve yourself? No. You're a dimwit, a stupid son-of-a-bitch. I know betrayal when I see it.

How could you do that to me? I've had so many lovers over the years, but since we've been together I've never cheated on you. I never wanted to betray you. You reminded me so much of myself, so long ago, back before Yuki turned on me. I never wanted you to lose that vibrant innocence. I would never have hurt you like you did me.

Although I hurt you in other ways. But that doesn't count. If you hadn't liked or at least tolerated my moods, then you wouldn't have stayed so long. And if you were with me just to get something from me, then I'd say that my erratic mood swings were fitting punishment. I wonder if you got what you came for. I wonder what it was you wanted so bad from me, to pretend and lie to me for so long.

Was that the real reason you were so excited to go on those tours? Hiro would be all yours, then. I wonder how long you two have been going behind my back. I wonder if everyone else knows, and they're all laughing to think of Shuichi playing around behind oblivious Yuki Eiri's back. I know none of your friends liked me. I never cared, I still don't care… I just wonder if all of you knew, and I was the only one left in the dark.

I _hate_ you.

I walk halfway across Tokyo before my agitation calms down enough for my weariness and jetlag to come through. I'm walking as far as possible away from you, Shuichi. I never want to see you again. I _hate_ you.

The person at the front desk of the hotel doesn't recognize me. The one woman in Tokyo who doesn't, and I'm thankful. I pay cash for the room, and head up. I left everything back at that apartment, even my coat. The heat of the hotel room reminds me how chilled I am. Winter isn't a good time to find out your lover's cheating on you.

All I can do is collapse on the big hotel bed. It's much harder than the bed we used to share. Everything smells like hotel. I'm so tired. I flew across a continent and an ocean for you, Shuichi, so how could you do this to me?

Isn't this what I wanted, all along? I spent so much time trying to drive you off… and now it's worked. I should be happy, shouldn't I? I don't love you, after all. I can't. Love just leads to hurt and pain and betrayal… so maybe I did love you after all, since it's ended up like this.

I hate you now, though. I never want to see you again! I never want to talk to you again. Go live with that stupid redhead of yours. I hope you give each other AIDS.

But that thought hurts too. I don't want that. I just… want to forget. I don't want to remember anything ever again. Life is such a predictable piece of shit, isn't it? The moment you get comfortable with things, everything falls apart.

Go ahead. Keep the apartment. I don't care, Shuichi.

I just want to forget you.

TBC


	2. Chapter Two: Shuichi

This time I'm sorry to say it's just a short chapter. Thank you very much for all the reviews! I really appreciate them.

One comment in particular: Sokra, you mentioned opening my reviews up to anonymous reviewers. Despite what you think, it's not fear... it's complete ignorance, since this is the first story I'm posting up here. I'd love to have reviews from anyone. I'm not trying to keep anonymous reviewers from giving me their opinions, but I couldn't find an option anywhere that would allow me to do that. Could you tell me how?

Standard disclaimer still applies.

* * *

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Two: Shuichi

Where are you!

You won't return my calls; you never came back to our apartment. No one's seen you, not even Mizuki. You have a chapter due, and you haven't even contacted her. It's been a week, Yuki. Where did you go?

Everyone's so freaked out. You like to disappear sometimes, without telling anyone, but you've always been back before now. We've contacted the police and filed a missing-persons report. But nothing's come up. No one's seen you. Mika even drove all the way home to check and see if you were there, for some reason. Seguchi's been out of his mind in worry.

It's my fault.

Yuki, I'm sorry.

Your expression was so terrible when you left. You didn't take your coat or anything; you didn't look back at me, even when I screamed and tried to chase you.

You misunderstood. Really! I wanted to tell you, but you never even turned around. I didn't think you cared that much. You're so laid-back about our relationship—other people would even call it "uncaring." You're never nice or gentle to me… except in bed. The rest of the time, you insult, shout, glare, and speak sarcastically to me. I never thought you even liked me, at least not like I like you.

But I think I really hurt you that night.

I never did anything. Nothing happened, seriously. I would _never_ cheat on you. Especially with my best friend! That would just be too awkward and weird! It was just an accident that we fell on each other… and it was Hiro kissing me, not the other way around. He was drunk, and all I wanted was a shower and sleep. I _promise_, Yuki.

Why won't you even answer your cell phone? You must have it with you, it's always in your pocket… but you never pick up. I've called it a hundred times, but there's been nothing… and all I can think about is that maybe there was some kind of accident or something. You never just disappear after an argument. You retaliate. You yell, scream, threaten me. You get _mad_, you don't just run off… and that's how I know I really hurt you.

Memories of New York are in my mind, now. You went there to die, to kill yourself. I managed to draw you back… but I hurt you, and it scares me that you're not answering your phone. You didn't do anything, did you? _Please_, Yuki. Talk to me. Let me explain. I swear on anything—I swear on my music—that I didn't do anything. We were on the bed before I knew it, and Hiro was just _drunk_, and the robe fell away before I could catch it. He kissed me, that's all. I would have pushed him off in just another fraction of a second, if you hadn't come in right then.

No one knows where you went. I sit curled on the couch in our empty apartment. The TV's on, but I'm not watching it. The phone's in my hand, and I just keep dialing and redialing your number, ever half hour. I leave so many messages on your voicemail, but you never reply.

I want you back, Yuki. Your apartment's so silent without you here, because I don't feel like running around like normal. I can't sing without knowing you're safe. I'm sorry I hurt you, really. I know how terrible betrayal is to you. I know what Yuki did to you, and I know I hurt you just as much. I thought you were starting to trust me. Trust comes very hard to you, but I thought you were beginning to trust me a little. How can you think I'd ever betray you? I _love_ you. I told you so many times, Yuki. Did you think I'd turn on you? Did you expect it? Is that why you were so slow to trust me, to show you cared?

You've been gone long enough. I know I hurt you. Please, come back so we can work things out.

I'm so, so sorry. I should have been more careful. I'm _sorry_.

I want you back.

I even unpacked all your clothes from your trip. You came back early to be here in time for the new single debut. I _know_ you did. People think you don't care about me. I always thought that too, but you _do_. This last week, I've been searching for phone numbers and addresses, anything that might lead me to you, and I've found so many signs of caring. I thought you hated my music, but you have a copy of every one of my singles, every one of my albums, all stashed in your desk drawer, hidden under papers. You knew I'd never look in there, didn't you. You kicked me out of the apartment last time I went through one of your drawers looking for a pen, and I'm not willing to suffer that again. So you kept my CDs there, where you could easily get them out. I even found one in your suitcase. You brought my CD with you, all the way to New York. You yell and scream at me every time I talk to you, practically, but you took my music with you, even though you declare it sucks.

I found the souvenir you bought me, wrapped and addressed to me. It's just a mug, with NYC emblazoned on the side. Nothing extremely special, but you bought it for me. You never buy me souvenirs, because you hate going out shopping for anything. You don't like people looking at you, even though there are millions of books around the world with your face on them. But you bought me something, without me even asking for it. I can't even tell you how long I cried when I saw that little, simple gift sitting there for me. I hate that I hurt you so much, because you were getting better at showing something besides cynicism, and I don't want you to think I betrayed you or lied to you.

I love you. I really do, Yuki. So why don't you return my calls? I want to see you again.

I need you.

Please, Yuki.

Please.

TBC


	3. Chapter Three: Yuki

Thanks for the help, Sokra. Traust Faellan is now open to anonymous reviewers. Comment away!

Thank you _very_ much to all the people who took the time to leave reviews. I love you guys! Here's another chapter as a reward. This one is a lot longer than the last, and there's more action and less soul-searching. I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Well, I didn't own anything in the last few chapters, and I still don't own Gravitation now. I wrote this for fun and to shut up my Muse, so please don't sue me.

Heh... I'm broke anyway.

* * *

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Three: Yuki

The phone's ringing again. It's such a pain. I want to chuck the thing out the window. I even reach for it and draw my arm back in preparation. But the number blinking back at me isn't yours. It's Mizuki.

I don't want to answer. I don't want to talk to anyone.

But I've already missed one deadline, and another is coming up. It's not as though I don't have the material; that's all I've been doing for the last two weeks straight. Writing constantly. Writing to distract myself.

I might as well pick up. Her ass is on the line, too, and it would be wrong to get her fired over my personal problems.

And it's your fault I feel anything for her at all, Shuichi. I never used to care how badly I treated my editor. I used to disappear before deadlines all the time. I used to drive her insane. And now, I feel bad for it. It's _your_ fault.

I hate you.

My voice is hoarse and angry when I answer the phone. A cigarette-and-beer diet doesn't do much for a person. "What."

There's a silence for a moment over the phone. Then Mizuki, sounding startled and relieved, cries out, "Mr. Yuki!"

"Obviously," I snarl back. She called my number. Who the hell did she expect to pick up, the Tooth Fairy?

"We were starting to think…" she trails off. "Where have you been? Are you alright?"

Oh, so now she wants to chat. "What do you want." My tone is flat and hostile. I don't want to talk.

She hesitates again; finally, uncertain, she says, "We've been worried. Shuichi—"

That name. _Your_ name. It's a knife in my chest, a rage burning through my soul. "What do you _want_?" I demand, cutting her off.

"I…" she trails off again. I don't think she knows what to say. Not surprising. I haven't been this rude to her since the early days, when I was rude to everyone and everything. When I was still reeling from pain and a needling conscience. When I'd first moved to this soul-sucking city in a search to escape my past and my family. In those early days, I practically terrorized all my editors. Mizuki is the only one who's lasted this long; I drove all the others off within weeks. But she's put up with me for years, handled my moods and my disappearances. Took everything in stride.

_And got quite wealthy and a good reputation from my work_, I cynically consider. And now she calls me up, pretending to be worried when all she cares about is her own job. Her own ass. She's just like everyone else. She's just like… _you_.

"I have another chapter done," I interrupt her fumbling attempt at lying to me.

She sounds relieved as we tread back onto familiar ground. "Just tell me where you are and I'll come by to pick it up."

"I need my computer."

"Alright," she says hastily. "I'll drop by your apartment and bring it with me."

I'm sure she will. What I'm concerned about is if she'll bring a certain pink-haired betrayer along. She seems to have a soft spot for you. I don't know how you two got so friendly, but whenever we used to have fights she'd try to help you patch our relationship up. The last thing I need now is for her nosy efforts to bring us back together.

"If you tell that brat where I am, if you bring him here, I swear I'll never write another book under you," I threaten.

There's a tiny pause. Then she replies, "I wouldn't think of it." I know that tone, though. I know she's got something up her sleeve.

"I'm _serious_," I growl. Hatred for you spills onto her. How can you reach out and touch so many people? How can you turn everyone against me like this! "Do you think I'm joking?"

She must hear something in my voice. "No. No, I don't," she replies, and her tone is serious now. "I won't tell Shuichi where you are."

Alright. I give her the address and room number, and hang up on her when she tries to babble on about "being there soon." I'm exhausted. One little phone call can wipe me out so easily, now. Even calling for room service can make me tired. I sprawl out on the bed. For the last two weeks, I've alternated between manic periods when I can't fall asleep for days on end, and periods when I feel like doing nothing but sleep. I left all my meds at home, too, which is an absolute pain. Withdrawal's making me feel lightheaded and nauseous most of the time. Or maybe that's just the beer and cigarettes. The familiar death-shroud of depression has settled on me, leaving me too worn to do much of anything.

And it's your fault.

Or maybe it's my fault.

I don't know anymore, Shuichi. I had no right to be with you in the first place. Our relationship ruined you in more ways than just one.

I grind the heels of my hands into my eyes, forcing all thought of you from my mind. I'm so tired, Shuichi. I'm tired of all these constant images I have of you, scrolling through my mind whenever I sit still for a moment. The images are mixed with memories of Yuki. You've become Yuki in my mind, but at the same time, you are myself, my old self: Uesugi Eiri. It's such a twisted cycle. Yuki betrayed me, and I became him and did my best to ruin you in turn. My younger self killed Yuki, and just like that Eiri, you've taken your own revenge against me for what I've done to you and what I've caused to happen to you. In the end, I'm to blame for everything. It's my fault, for Yuki, for you. I've kept the cycle going. If I'd died long ago, none of this would have happened.

I _hate_ you….

… Yuki Eiri.

* * *

A knock on the door wakes me up. Groggily I turn my head just enough to peep at the alarm clock. It's only been an hour since Mizuki called. I don't want to get up. If that's Mizuki, then she can just dig a trench out there for all I care. I'm not getting up. 

The knocking gets more intense.

Shit. Dammit all.

I drag out of bed and head to the door, unlocking it. Leveling a hate-filled glare on whoever's out there the moment I open the door.

It _is_ Mizuki. She holds the laptop up as a peace offering. I move back from the door without speaking, grabbing the laptop from her hands. Without looking at her, I spin and collapse at the small table, opening the laptop and turning it on.

Mizuki tentatively enters the room and shuts the door. "The new chapter…?"

I light up another cigarette and leaf through a stack of hand-written papers. "It's not typed up."

She hesitantly picks her way across the room and sits down in the chair across from me. "I can do that," she offers.

I glare up at her for the uncharacteristic offer. I don't like the look on her face as she glances around the hotel room, her eyes lingering on the piles of empty beer cans and empty cigarette boxes. So what if everything's an unclean mess. Who cares. Eventually I'll find a new apartment and move out, so what does it matter if this damn hotel room is trashed up? Quickly, I begin to type. The faster I can get her out of here, the better. I'm tired and that hour nap was not enough after another one of my three-day-straight writing sessions. I want her gone. I should never have told her the address of this place.

Mizuki watches me type, silent for the first ten minutes. I ignore her and speed my fingers over the keys.

Then, entirely expected, she says, "I met Shuichi at your apartment."

That name again. I can't stand it. I say nothing.

"He's really worried about you."

I type faster, to control the urge I have to punch something.

"He hasn't been to work for awhile."

And I'm supposed to care… why?

Mizuki digs into her purse and pulls out some familiar pill bottles. "He wanted me to give you these." She sets them on the table.

My meds.

"He wants to talk to you, Mr. Yuki. He wants to explain, and settle things."

I can't control the sudden rage that swells through me. I snatch out, grab one of the pill bottles, and throw it across the room so hard that when it hits the wall, it cracks open and pills go flying. "Shut up!" I shout at her, lunging to my feet. "I don't remember ever asking you to be some kind of go-between in my personal life! It's none of your business!"

Mizuki looks up at me with a surprising amount of calm, considering my over-the-top violent reaction. "Shuichi _did_ ask me, though. You won't speak to him, and I'm the only one you will talk to."

You manage to turn everyone against me, all the time, Shuichi. I _hate_ you so much for that, and yet I can't hate you, because I understand. People can't help but be drawn to you, to be sucked into caring for you. I understand, because despite all of the walls I'd built up, despite all the practice I'd gotten at shoving people away from me, despite the hatred boiling in my chest towards everyone I met and towards the world in general… I too was drawn in. I too couldn't help but care for you.

"It's _none_ of your business!" I scream at her. I really need to hit something now. I want to hit myself. I'd probably end up in an asylum then, wouldn't I. Mizuki would think I'd gone insane.

"Shuichi's miserable," she goes on. It's driving me crazy that she won't leave this alone, that she thinks I should care that you're miserable.

I couldn't care less, Shuichi. I really couldn't care less. It's better for you this way, anyway. "I'm sure he is," I sneer sarcastically.

She looks at me with a surprisingly hard expression. "I don't know what happened between you, but surely you've punished him enough. You need to learn to forgive and forget, Mr. Yuki."

"No, you _don't_ know what happened," I snap back. If she did, would she still be pressing me like this? Pressuring and pushing and torturing me with razor-sharp needles of truth? "It's none of your business to know." I step back, leaving her a clear path to the door. "You know the way out, so use it."

Mizuki actually glares at me, with an anger that's much more intense than when she's mad at my missed deadlines. "It _is_ my business! How long have we known each other, Mr. Yuki? More than four years. Four years! I think that gives me some right to step in when I see you're ruining your life!"

Ruining my life? No, that happened more than eight years ago. This whole piece of shit relationship with you, Shuichi, was just the icing on the cake. To be honest, I had no life to be ruined in the first place.

Mizuki just keeps plowing on, upset as I've never seen her before. "It _is_ my business when you start living like this and Shuichi is so depressed that he barely moves off the couch!" She stands up to look at me on a level, or near enough to it. "You're hurting him! He just wants to talk to you, and you're hurting him. I care for you both too much to see you wreck your relationship with him!"

"It's already wrecked," I reply. My anger suddenly leeches right out of me, bleeding away as though it never existed. I'm left feeling powerless in its aftermath. Yes, my relationship with you was already wrecked. It was wrecked the moment you chased after me in a validation for your crappy song. In fact, it was already wrecked the moment I picked your lyrics up from where they landed, right at my feet.

There was a reason why I was so cruel to you, Shuichi. I meant to push everyone away. I did it on purpose. How is it that you were able to reach past that and still touch me? I don't understand. And then, as though you were just toying with me, as though I was nothing to you, you moved on so easily. How could you do that to me? How could you…

Suddenly, I'm too exhausted to stand and yell and even _think_. I collapse onto the edge of the bed—closer than the chair—and bury my head in my hands, folding over dizzily. I feel like crying; there's that unmistakable ache behind my eyes. Futilely I rub at the bridge of my nose.

"What happened, Eiri?" she asks then, stepping over the professional line she's always maintained between us. Very uncharacteristic, that use of my first name.

Even more uncharacteristic is the fact that I let her get away with it. "He moved on," I tell her with a mirthless smile. I want to cry, but I refuse to cry over you, you jerk. Damn lack of meds. I don't feel in control when I'm not taking them. And self-control is the only thing keeping me together, the only thing left to me.

"Shuichi…?" she blurts, a note of astonished understanding glimmering in her tone now.

The truth spills out, even though I tried to stop it through this whole conversation. "He cheated on me. I found them… together. On my bed." I bury my face in my hands again, my elbows on my knees, propping me up.

Mizuki is silent, appalled. "I don't believe it!"

"I saw it," I whisper. "I saw…"

"It's just a mistake," she protests. "I'm sure! Shuichi would _never_—"

"I _saw_ them!" I cry out, glaring up at her. To my surprise, and hers as well, she blurs over in my vision and wet heat rolls down my cheeks.

Horrified, I scrub at my cheeks angrily. I'm _not_ going to cry over this, dammit all! I _swear_! I'm _not_—

"Eiri…"

God. I feel like some kind of weepy woman. If only I'd remembered to keep my meds with me these last few weeks. I wouldn't be breaking down like this right now, if only I'd remembered. But the depression has hit so hard this short time away from you. It's your fault; you made me trust you and then sheared me in half with your betrayal.

More tears well up, struggling to escape. I squeeze my eyes closed hard, willing them back.

"I'm sorry…" Mizuki murmurs then, hesitant and worried. "If I'd known… I wouldn't have pressured you like that. I'm _sorry_, Eiri."

I don't acknowledge her. I'm so tired, and all my willpower is focused on regaining control.

An awkward silence descends. I keep my eyes screwed closed. Keep the tears back. I won't cry over you, Shuichi. I refuse to. It's better this way, isn't it?

Mizuki speaks again, and her voice comes from right beside me. "You're exhausted," she remarks softly. "Go to sleep. I'll type up the rest of the chapter for you. Just get some rest."

I shake my head. I don't want to sleep, Shuichi, because I always see images of you in my dreams. I don't want to see you anymore. I wonder if you dream of me. I wonder if you care just how much you've hurt me.

No. Stop thinking. If I think anymore, I'll cry, and I _won't_. Not over you. I _can't_. Far better to be angry at you. If I'm angry, I don't have to think about how much it hurts, what you've done, and how little I have left in my life now that you've dropped the loving act. I can't cry over you, because then I'll know how much I still care for you.

I _hate_ you.

Mizuki's touch startles me. I jerk back from her, my eyes flying open. Still slightly blurred by tears, I look up at her.

Her face is gentle. Her hands are firm and warm on my shoulders. "_Yes_. Here, lie down now." She pushes against me.

I'm too tired to fight her for long. When I'm stretched out on the bed, I finally realize just how exhausted I am. The bed is so impossibly comfortable. I curl up on my side. Mizuki yanks a blanket over me, tucking it up to my chin. I should scream at her. I should shout her out of the place. But I'm too tired.

"_Sleep_, Eiri."

After awhile, the typing starts up again. I lay curled on the warm bed, my back to the room. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine being back at home, tucked into bed. I can almost imagine you sneaking into the room, preparing to leap on me, your customary, irritating wake-up call. I always hated that. I hated when you took forever in the shower, too. Or when you sang loud enough to wake up the neighbors. I hated when you'd try to make me breakfast and only succeed at nearly burning down the entire building. I hated the way that only a few comments by me could put you near tears. I hate everything about you.

I hate _you_.

The clacking at the keyboard stops. And it's only then that I realize I'm crying. Stupid. I told myself I'd never cry over you. I've only cried twice in the last eight years… and it's always been because of you. What the hell makes you so special that I can't keep the tears back? I don't have the control anymore to contain them. I bury my face in the pillow to muffle the sobs, and cry.

Mizuki's there, then. The bed depresses a little behind me. Warm hands rub my shoulders and back through the blanket. Offering tentative support. Tentative friendship. We've worked together for four years but we've never really been friends. But she's offering now, because she sees that I need it.

It's your fault, Shuichi! You made me trust again. You made me weak. You made me think I was safe! _I hate you_, so much! I never cared about anything, I was _fine_—but you made me care, and then rubbed it in my face! You turned me into this weak, incompetent, weepy person. It's all your fault, and I want to hate you but I can't.

_I can't_.

That knowledge only makes me cry harder.

Mizuki stays by my side until my exhaustion kicks in and the tears peter off. I wish she would go. It's almost worse for her to be hovering over me than it would be to be completely alone. I should be cool, competent, confident, shrugging off this betrayal as though I never gave a damn about you. I want to hide behind that mask again. It's your fault I can't.

Mizuki rubs my back for a few more minutes as I lay still in dazed weariness. Then she pulls the blankets up again, and squeezes my shoulder. "Just try to get some sleep," she murmurs.

I'm tired enough to actually listen to her this time. I bury my face in my arms, in the pillow, and hide in the blackness that swamps my senses and carries me away to blissful non-remembrance.

TBC


	4. Chapter Four: Mizuki

Hmmm. Mizuki's presence seems underrepresented in fan fiction. I guess, technically, she doesn't really get that much screen time in the anime either, but I've always wanted to see her in some fic. Thus... this chapter. Too bad it's just a short one.

Disclaimer: Have things really changed from one or two chapters ago?

* * *

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Four: Mizuki

It hurts to see you like this, Eiri.

You've never been anything less than smug, arrogant, confident, and indifferent. It's slightly unreal, even now, to be sitting here typing with you lying, an emotional wreck, mere feet away. It's surreal that I was actually comforting you as you, of all people, cried. It shouldn't be surreal, because I'm one of the few people in your life who realize how extremely sensitive you really are… I just never thought that you would allow anyone to see it.

I do care about you. No, not in _that_ way. But I worry about you as though you're my brother instead of my writer. And it's taken this tragedy in your life for me to fully realize it.

I was young and blinded by visions of fame and wealth when I became your editor. I heard the horror stories from your previous editors about the nasty pranks you'd pull, like disappearing right before deadlines without a word, and about your rudeness and lack of all courtesy. In fact, I heard from one poor woman that you actually terrorized her. You were an editor's nightmare, despite the popularity of your books.

But I accepted the job anyway without seeing a single word of your work, because you're so talented that you're a veritable cash cow, and editing masterpieces like what you put out would make my career. I was as heartless as you seemed to be.

With that mindset, I shouldn't have lasted a week or two, especially once I met you and saw what you were like. You were every inch as terrible as the others made you out to be. But, reading your books for the first time and editing the chapters you gave me, somehow I was captured. _Captivated_. Your works was—_is_—beautiful. It startled and amazed me to see the complexity and sheer emotion you could instill in a page of written words.

You, plain and simple, fascinated me, because you had such a contemptuous and arrogant exterior, yet you possessed so much gentle sensitivity towards human emotion and motivation. Towards human frailty. And you could bare a character's psyche with such brilliance, through exquisite and poetic language. There is a reason, after all, that you're so popular. I'd just never thought that it was because of actual _merit_.

But I finally understood, and suddenly, I couldn't let you escape me. I wanted more than just to edit and become wealthy. I wanted to explore that dichotomy inside of you. The other editors hadn't seen it, had seen nothing beyond the surface. Either that, or they didn't care enough to live through the editor's hell you liked to put them through. But I could see your sensitivity, and I did care.

That's the reason Shuichi and I get along so well. Somehow, he could see it too, that side of yourself you like to keep hidden. He was fascinated too, drawn into caring for you. And that's why I could never believe he'd do something like you said he did. He cares for you too much to ever do that. I know you saw something, but it must be a mistake. I would stake my career on it.

I saw his eyes when I went to pick up your computer. He was so desperate to hear from you, so terrified that you hadn't yelled at him like you typically do when you guys fight. And he was so relieved to hear that I'd made contact with you. There was no duplicity in his eyes, and someone like Shuichi can't tell a lie. He just doesn't have the poker face for it. If he'd actually betrayed you, then it would be obvious, now that I'm looking back and remembering his expression.

It must be a mistake. It _has_ to be.

Because you need him.

If what you saw was the truth, I know it would destroy you.

You've changed so much in the four years I've known you. Before you met Shuichi, you were so arrogant and cynical. At times you were even downright mean. Your novels were the only thing that saw your gentler side. Only through your written words did your genuine sensitivity and kindness flow out of you. You could be charming when you wanted to be; you wouldn't have been so popular with the ladies if you weren't. But to someone like me, whose job it was to hound you when you were late with chapters, you never wanted to be.

But ever since Shuichi thundered into your life, you've been changing. Slowly, but surely, that hidden side of you has emerged into the light. Not always, not even often, but I've seen it. I've seen it in the more mellow way you speak to me; I've seen it in the way you rarely pull pranks as terrible as you used to pull. You always seem to not care for Shuichi, but he's been changing you for the better, and I can tell that you've come to rely on him.

This isn't the first time you two have had problems. Shuichi gets thrown out of your apartment every so often for some small thing or other that annoys you. I think that you throw him out for such minor irritations to protect yourself. You feel like you've gotten too close to him, so you make up reasons to push him away. Maybe you're even testing him, trying to find out just how much he cares for you before you dare to depend on him. In some ways, you're such a coward; you're always so sarcastic about love, but I think you're just afraid to open yourself up and find out that it can hurt.

You were afraid things would come to _this_.

I don't believe that they have, though. I know that Shuichi would never hurt you like this. He loves you, and not with a fake love that melts away over time. I know what you think you saw, but it's a mistake. I'm sure of it. Shuichi was so hurt that you didn't want to see him, that you ordered me not to let him know where he is. He wants to talk to you so badly. He's so depressed without you. Do you honestly think that he'd be that torn up about this if it hadn't been a mistake? If he loved someone else more than you, don't you realize that he would be alright with how things turned out?

You just don't have self-confidence. It's silly to think that, isn't it? You're so collected, so in control of yourself and everyone around you. You always guide others where you want them to go, rather than letting people manipulate you. But deep inside of you, you don't have the self-confidence to believe that others could love you. That's why you're so certain that Shuichi could betray you. You never felt he loved you in the first place, so it would be only natural in your eyes that he would turn away from you in the end.

You're a brilliant man, but even the smartest people in the world can be stupid about the simplest things.

Shuichi loves you. And you need him. It's all as simple as that.

You won't talk to him, but you need him now, even though you deny it to yourself. You don't want me as an intermediary; you don't want anyone patching up this mess. But it hurts to see you like this. You're much more vulnerable than you let on; if you weren't there is no way you could be so understanding and sympathetic when you write your characters. And without Shuichi, I don't know how you could go on. I don't think even you know.

So even though you don't think you need help right now, I'll help. I promised you that I wouldn't tell Shuichi where you are, but there are other ways.

I will help you, Eiri.

TBC


	5. Chapter Five: Hiro

Yay, another update! Thank you for all the reviews, again. I may not reply to each one individually, but I do really appreciate every one of them! If you want a specific response to a comment you make in your review, please let me know and I'll send you an email.

This chapter's from Hiroshi's point of view. Of all of the POVs I used, this one was the hardest for me, so if it doesn't come across as quite right, that's why. I hope you all enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Me no own cute animated characters. Yada yada, blah blah.

**

* * *

**

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Five: Hiro

I hate you, Yuki Eiri.

Well, maybe not. What I really hate is the way that Shuichi lights up only for you. I hate the way that one word from you can make Shu beam or make him cry. I hate it, that he doesn't see me as anything other than a close friend and band mate. He knows I love him, he knows why I kissed him that night… and he just wants _you_. He never even kissed me back. He was motionless under me only because he was too shocked to move, not because he was encouraging me… but you misunderstood and left him.

Are you happy? Shu's been so depressed that he barely even moves from home. Even K's threats couldn't inspire Shu to sing or write music or show up to do promotions. Are you glad that he's like this? I think somewhere you're probably laughing to yourself, that you can make him suffer. I know you know about it, because I was there when Mizuki came to collect your computer and I heard Shu begging for her to talk to you.

And I'm there when she returns the next day to report back. Her face is serious and now she doesn't overly sympathize with Shu, even though yesterday she was gushing and promising to get you and him back together. I think you've probably told her what happened, which surprises me. Why would you talk to Mizuki? You never tell anyone anything; you never even told Shu you cared about him.

I wonder if you do. You never let on… but I was there. I saw your face when you heard what Taki Aizawa did to Shu. People don't get that kind of expression unless they're furious and afraid for the person who's been hurt. People don't beat another person into a bloody pulp like you did Maa unless they feel something. But you've been with Shu for so long, and you always treat him like shit. You never show him you care at all, so maybe I completely misinterpreted that moment. Maybe you had that expression, and maybe you beat up Maa like that, because Shu's like some kind of pet for you. Maybe you were mad because Taki touched something you own, a sort of how-dare-you-lay-your-hands-on-my-possession kind of thing. Because from what I've seen you certainly don't value Shu as an independent person… more as a lackey whose mind and emotions you can fuck around with whenever you feel like it.

It hurts to see how desperate Shuichi is for information of you. He's jumping all over Mizuki like an eager little puppy. I wish he could be that crazy over me, but you're the one he loves. And, because of a moment of recklessness, I screwed that up. But Shu hasn't blamed me at all. He's focused all his attention on finding his beloved Yuki rather than yelling at me, and I think he blames himself anyway, which isn't how it should be but I'm too much the coward right now to force him to realize that the one he should be hating is me.

Mizuki won't tell Shuichi where you are. He begs and pleads and makes puppy-dog eyes at her, but she stands firm. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you," she says with a touch more sympathy.

Shuichi slumps back onto the couch again. He's crestfallen, depressed again so easily. He was so hopeful all day since Mizuki first told him she had contacted you, but now he's crushed again. You really like doing this to him, don't you? You like him to suffer. You're such a sado-masochist, and you love to see everyone else in pain, especially poor Shu.

Mizuki's eyes are on me; her expression is mournful. "You're…?"

"Hiroshi," I tell her. "I'm in the band."

I can almost see the light bulb turning on in her mind. Her eyes turn crafty. "Come with me," she orders, leading the way back down the hallway to what is, apparently, your office. I don't really know what to think, and I can't guess what she's planning, but I follow anyway, just because I don't want to see Shu looking all depressed again right now.

She turns on me the instant the office door is closed. "Hiro, right? I've heard a lot about you from Shuichi."

And I still have basically no clue who she is, other than the vague description that she's an editor. "Yeah," I reply, simply because she looks like she's waiting for one.

"I promised that I wouldn't let Shuichi know where Yuki is right now," she tells me," but I never said that I wouldn't tell anyone else. I'll tell _you_ where he is, and _you_ can go talk to him."

"Now hang on a moment!" I blurt out. No way. There's no way I'm going to do that, because I'm the reason this whole mess happened.

"You're Shuichi's closest friend," she babbles on, carried away with her idea. "And Yuki knows you. He'll listen to you."

Like hell you will. You never listen to anyone, not even Shuichi who's supposed to be your boyfriend. Why in the world would you listen to me, the person whom you think Shu's having an affair with? Besides, why would I want to talk you into getting back together with Shu? He's better off without you! He's better off—

The image of Shuichi crumpled up on the couch and flipping through TV channels in blank despair flashes into my mind. I remember the way that Shu screamed after you when you left, and chased you. And now he's shattered apart because he lost you.

Maybe… it's not better for him to be away from you. You're a son-of-a-bitch, you treat Shu worse than crap, but I never saw him like this when you two were together, not even when you pissed him off or hurt him so badly he cried. Maybe I really screwed up. I did it because I love Shu, because I want him to be happy, but I've made his life miserable instead. And all this time, instead of trying to help patch up your relationship, I've been hanging back and hoping that you two won't get back together.

I have every reason to want you guys to break up. You're cruel to Shu, and I _love_ him. I want to be his boyfriend, instead of you who always tear him down verbally and emotionally. I want to be his lover… but he's in so much pain right now, and it's my fault, and it _hurts_ to see him like this. It hurts even more than seeing you two together.

"Alright," I finally give in. "Tell me where he is. I'll go talk to him."

Looking relieved, she gives me the address. I sigh, and head out without another word. I send only a short glance over to Shu as I storm across the living room to the door. He's sprawled on the couch again, his eyes almost lifeless as he stares at the TV. A twinge runs through me, and even though I don't want to do this, it strengthens my resolve.

What an idiot I am. I'm going to go try to repair your relationship, when I love Shu. I love Shu so much that I'd rather put you two back together than try to pick up the Shu-pieces you left behind when you left. You're such a bastard, you know that? You don't deserve him. I can't understand why Shu loves you, loves to be with _you_, when you treat him like shit. You don't deserve him, everyone knows it! I just… don't understand.

It's not hard to find the hotel, although it's quite a ways off the beaten path. It's a good distance by subway. I don't bother to announce myself at the desk. I sneak up and to your room, and pound on the door.

It takes five straight minutes of knocking to even get a response. Finally, the door flies open with hostile force, and you snarl, "What do you _want_, Mizu—"

You realize who I am only then. We stare at each other. You're glaring at me with that same old indifferent expression… only it's not the same. Your expression is haunted rather than haughty. Your posture is slumped rather than straight and intimidating. And your eyes are _red_, as in weeping red.

And, seeing you looking literally a mess, with your hair all mussed and your fingers shaking as they hold a cigarette… only then do I wonder if maybe you haven't been ignoring Shu to punish him, but if you were really, really hurt by what happened, and you're staying away because Shu's "betrayal" hurts too much for you to face him.

Your eyes narrow. You're trying to look angry, but I get the unmistakable impression that you want to cry instead. Which, knowing the way you are normally, is really startling and even a bit scary.

"Yuki," I begin.

You slam the door in my face.

Well, you try to, but my reflexes are just barely quick enough. Without even thinking, I throw my hand out and get it in the crack between the door and the jamb right as you slam it.

"_Shit_!" I shout. Stupid reflexes. "_Fuck_!" I yank my hand back and hold it, too agonized to do anything besides stand there with tears pricking my eyes, screaming curses to the entire hotel.

Doors are starting to pop open along the hallway. You throw a glance at the heads peeping out. "Shut up," you order.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" I shout back at him. God, it hurts. Don't ever try to stop a slamming door like that. Trust me on that one. "_Fuck_!"

I suppose having my hand almost severed by a door was a successful way to get your attention, though, because you grab me up by my collar and drag me into the hotel room, slamming the door behind us. You don't want anyone to see you, it's clear. You don't like attention, Shu's told me lots of times in the past. Courtesy of your natural looks, I'd guess. Pretty silly to worry about being noticed now, though, since you've got your picture plastered on the backs of millions of books worldwide.

You shove me down into the chair and storm out with the ice bucket in hand. I sit, wincing, wondering how the hell I'm going to be able to play guitar when I can't even move my finger, and looking around the hotel room to distract myself from the pain. Your bed's unmade. Your laptop is quietly whirring on the table, surrounded by empty beer cans and flanked by a long-cold room service lunch that's clearly untouched. The ashtray has at least twenty butts in it, and I think I spot a few empty beer bottles by the bed. But don't you normally live like this? Things don't look too bad, so maybe I just mistook all that crap back at the door. Maybe you're just trying to punish Shu after all.

You stomp back into the room. Your face is set in an ill-tempered expression. You scoop ice from the bucket into a small towel, and throw it at my head. I barely manage to catch it without falling off the chair or getting pelted by ice. I grit my teeth to contain my irritation, and gently apply it to my aching hand.

"Now get out," you demand.

"Yuki—"

"Get. Out."

I firm my resolve. "I'm here to talk to you, dammit."

"You mean, to gloat," you accuse.

"Gloat about _what_?" I snarl right back. "Nothing _happened_."

You pace to the other side of the room with quick agitated steps. I've never seen you upset by anything before, and it's a shocking change. "Don't try to lie to me. I've know Shu asked—_Shuichi_—that brat—" You don't know what to call Shu. For a second, you look almost flustered. And I know then that you're not punishing Shu for some sado-masochistic reason. You're not punishing him at all. You're really not yourself right now. If you were, you'd be all glib comments and calm sarcastic indifference. But you're obviously upset right now, uncertain and confused and pained and distrustful. You hesitate, and then finally pick a word. "I _know_ that brat asked you to come here to patch things up. But don't bother! You can have him. I don't want him anymore."

As though Shuichi really _is_ some kind of possession to be tossed out once he's worn out. I narrow my eyes at you. "I thought you cared about him a little more than that." Setting aside the fact that I'm not even sure you actually care in the first place.

You seem infuriated that I'd dare to make such a comment. "You don't know the first fucking thing about me!"

"You're right." I roll my eyes. "And I really don't want to know any more. All I want to know is if you deserve him."

And you say again, "I don't want him! _You_ can have him. You two seem to get along perfectly." A trace of your old sarcasm. But only a trace.

"_Nothing happened_," I repeat. "You misunderstood what you saw."

"Did I?" You seem completely disbelieving.

"I was _drunk_. _I_ kissed _him_. Shuichi didn't want it. You're the only one he cares about in that way, Yuki," I explain flatly. It hurts so much to say it, but it's the truth.

You honestly don't know what to say to that. It seems silly that a writer, a master of language, should be at a loss for words. But you are, and you just stare at me.

"It's true," I say, more to break the awkward silence than to reassure you.

You take a quick puff of your cigarette, averting your eyes. Your hand shakes so much, and you suck on the cigarette in clear desperation for the calming nicotine. You breathe out a cloud of smoke, and then attack again, "So that's the story you're going with. It's a bit clichéd, don't you think? The old drunken idiocy routine. But what else could I expect from someone as unoriginal and uncreative as that stupid brat?"

"It's the _truth_," I growl again.

"Get out," you order, stepping back to leave me a clear path to the door. "_Get out_."

"You really have a low opinion of Shu, don't you." I don't move a muscle from the chair. You'll have to physically throw me out if you want me gone.

You make an irritated gesture with your cigarette. "A dumb idiot like him? Of course. He's not the brightest bulb in the—"

"That's not what I'm talking about!" I'm daring enough to interrupt you. Boldly I glare at you. I saw what Maa looked like when you were done with him. I know you could do the same to me. But you're not going to intimidate me, not until I've said what I came here to say. "Fuck knows I've got no reason to want you two together. You're mean to him and you hurt him all the time. But he loves you, for some odd reason, and I care about him enough for—"

"Yeah, I noticed," you cut back in. "I noticed _exactly_ how much you care for each other."

"Shut up and _listen_ to me!" I shout at him, lunging to my feet.

To my astonishment, you do. You look at me, silent and unmoving. Your expression is hard and cold. But the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in them I can see clearly how vulnerable you are in this moment. After what you saw, it's no wonder you think Shu betrayed you, but…

"Do you really have so little faith in him?" I ask. I'd meant to demand it, but it comes out sounding quiet and almost pleading rather than angry. "How can you not trust him? He's always loved you… why don't you trust him?"

"I don't trust anyone!" you retort. As though it's a fact to be proud of, that you don't think your own lover is worthy of being trusted and believed in.

"You're pathetic," I sneer, losing my patience. "You're a pathetic loser who loves to wallow in his own misery."

Your eyes flash. "Then why the hell are you trying to put us back together, if you think that?"

Who the hell knows. I wish someone would tell _me_ the answer to that one. "Dammit all, you're treating him like he's been lying to you all along! You _know_ Shu! You know he can't lie worth anything. You're a pathetic, paranoid _monster_! Shuichi doesn't deserve to be ruined by someone as twisted and heartless as _you_." I shake my head angrily. "You're right. I give up on trying to repair this mess you caused. I hope you go off and die somewhere, and leave Shuichi alone! He doesn't deserve someone like you!"

Your mouth opens. It's the second time I've made you speechless. For a long moment, you look weird. Then, finally, anger comes to save you. "You _son_-of-a—"

A cough interrupts you. You clap a hand over your mouth, wheezing into your palm. You pull your hand away, and I think I can see something red on your lip.

Grudgingly I ask, "You okay?" Trying to decide if I hope you are (for Shu's sake) or if I hope you _aren't_.

You spin away from me, not even answering, and go into the bathroom. The door slams behind you.

"God_damn_ you," I snarl at the door.

"Get! Out!" You grit out then. "_Get out_!"

"Gladly!" I've already got the hotel room door open.

But the sound of more coughing, violent coughing, chases me when I try to make my getaway. I hesitate in the doorway. Shu would kill me if I just left when his lover needed help, but dammit all, I just don't like you.

Reluctantly I close the door again and tap on the bathroom door. "Yuki."

"_Go AWAY_!" You scream. And immediately dissolve into another coughing fit. It sounds really painful, actually. Maybe you _are_ dying in there. I'm sure that was blood I saw on your lip before.

"_Yuki_," I growl at him. "Are you okay?"

You don't answer. You just cough. It sounds almost like retching now, you're coughing so hard.

"Yuki." I try the doorknob, but you've locked the door behind you. Shit. "Yuki, open the fucking door."

The coughing fit is dying down, but I can hear you wheezing for breath. Another moment, and then I hear the weak thud of a limp body hitting the ground.

"Yuki!" I pound on the bathroom door. What the hell is wrong with you? "Open up!"

There's no response, not even a shout to go away. I think you've fainted, and the damn bathroom door's locked. "Yuki!" You might be really sick, especially if that was blood I saw… and Shuichi's going to _kill_ me if I brought this on. He'll kill me if you die of this, so you'd better not be dying in there, you idiot!

I start to slam my shoulder into the door then, worried enough to risk further injury in order to get the door open. "_Yuki_!" I call in between attacks on the door. "Yuki, answer me!"

But there's nothing, and in the end I have to force the door open by physically beating myself up on it. Eventually something snaps, and I stumble into the bathroom to find you crumpled on the ground, unconscious and covered with blood.

"Shit!" I knew it.

You're going to be the death of me, Yuki, because Shu's going to kill me for sure.

TBC


	6. Chapter Six: Shuichi

Again, thank you for all the reviews. I love to read them. Here's an early update, just for all my wonderful reviewers. Unfortunately, it's just a short chapter, but you can't have everything!

Disclaimer: The poor fanfic writer did wail and moan / Since Yuki and Shu she doth not own.

**

* * *

**

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Six: Shuichi

The phone call comes a few hours later that night. I have nothing to do now that I've stopped trying to dial your phone number every thirty minutes. I want something to do; the boredom is killing me. And even boredom is just not the same when I know you're not here, when I have no idea if you're safe or not. When I'm all alone.

The ringing of the phone startles me. I'm ecstatic: it has to be you. Hiro talked to you and told you the truth and now you're calling up to see how I am, I _know_ it! I almost break the phone, the coffee table, and myself as I dive for it. "Hello!" I want to hear your voice so badly.

But it's not you after all. "Shu," is the reply. It's Hiro.

"What happened! What'd he say! Did you tell him! Where is he!" I demand, almost screaming at Hiro.

"Shu, _calm down_," Hiro growls, and I shut up instantly. "Okay. Now don't freak out or anything, but Yuki's sick."

You're sick! Fear flares through me. I scramble to my feet. "_Sick_?" I squeak into the phone.

"Yeah. He's in the hospital—"

"_Hospital_!"

"But he'll be—"

"_Where_!" I shriek. "Where is he? What's wrong!"

Hiro starts to reply, giving me the name of the hospital and the address. That's all I need to know. I need to be there beside you _now_. "I'll be right there!" I shout, and hang up on his reply.

The trip to the hospital is lost in a blur of fear and worry. All I can think about is you: the way you act so cold and heartless most of the time, but then turn around and act so nice and gentle and caring at those rare times you feel truly safe. The way you'll glare and roll your eyes and speak sarcastically to me, as though you hate the sight of me… and then still carry my CDs with you overseas and bring me back unexpected presents. And, most of all, the way you looked that night, when you saw me in such a suspicious position: the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. You were afraid that you'd lost me; you were afraid to be betrayed again, especially by me, the one person who's been so close to you in your entire life. I can't get that expression out of my mind. I never thought you cared for me that much. Sometimes I'd even wondered, at my more angry moments, if you even had a heart at all. But you do. I saw it in your eyes that night those long weeks ago, and watched it shatter to pieces right in front of me.

And it's my fault, it's my fault! It's my fault you're sick now! I'm so sorry, Yuki.

Hiro's waiting for me in the emergency room waiting area when I barrel in. "Where is he?" I demand. I just want to see you again, so badly. I want to look at you and apologize.

"He's unconscious," Hiro warns me, leading me to you.

"What happened?" My eyes flash around wildly, hoping for a glimpse of you.

"He collapsed. He was coughing up blood, so I called an ambulance. The doctor said he'll be okay, and it's probably just stress. He wasn't taking very good care of himself, so he's not in good shape, but he'll be okay."

I shudder. Coughing up blood, again? "He has meds for that. He wasn't taking his meds." It is my fault after all, because I drove you off so painfully that you forgot to bring your pills with you.

"Here." Hiro pushes open a door and enters the hospital room. I almost shove my way right through him in my desperation. And then, Hiro steps aside, and I see you.

The first thing I notice is how pale you look, so white you rival the sheets. Then other impressions sink in.

"He's so thin," I hiss, wanting to dive at you and hug you as hard as possible, but I know that'll just hurt you more, so I control myself.

"The doctor said he hasn't been eating. That's why they've got an IV on him."

I never even noticed the IV, but now I can't help but see it. Your arm seems so thin. Slowly I creep forward, scared to the depths of my soul despite Hiro's reassurance that you'll be alright. As I lean over you, I'm almost certain that you'll pop your eyes open and make a suitably sardonic comment, like the last time you were in the hospital for this, but you don't… and that makes me more scared.

"Yuki…" I whimper. Your hair is so soft and silky under my questing fingers. I brush it back, and touch your face lightly. I gather up your limp hand, and squeeze it, and lean in to give your temple a gentle kiss. "Yuki, I'm sorry." But you don't reply, and I let my head rest on your shoulder, near tears.

"He'll be okay, Shu," Hiro soothes me again.

But nothing can reassure me but for you to open your eyes and smile at me. I know that's too much to hope for. After how much I hurt you, I wonder if you'll ever smile at me again. No wonder Mizuki's attitude changed so dramatically after she saw you. She was on my side before, but when she got back from meeting you, she wasn't. Now that I've seen you, I understand, because you're too thin and tired-looking. For the first time, I realize how fragile you are, physically and emotionally… and I hate to see you like this. I don't even care how mean you'll be to me when you wake up, I just want you awake and back with me in our apartment.

No… I don't care about that anymore. After what I've done to you, I probably don't even deserve to hope for that. I don't care if you throw me out permanently this time, Yuki. I just want your eyes to open. I want to know you'll be alright. I don't want you to hurt, and especially not over me. I want you to be _happy_, Yuki, and if there was anything I could do to make you so, I'd do it in a heartbeat, no matter what kind of sacrifices I'd have to make.

Even if I have to give you up.

I don't want to. I'd rather be roasted alive. But you've had so much pain in your life, and I can't bear to cause you more. You should be happy too, Yuki, no matter how little you think you deserve it. And if I can buy that happiness by leaving you alone, I will.

I love you that much.

TBC


	7. Chapter Seven: Yuki

Disclaimer: I've got absolutely nothing even mildly witty to say this time. I don't own 'em, plain and simple.

* * *

**Traust Faellan**

Chapter Seven: Yuki

You're there when I wake up. At first, I don't notice you; all I notice is how weak I feel and how white the hospital ceiling is. I hear voices, but it's more important at the moment for me to remember what happened and how I got here, so I don't concentrate on them. I was in the hotel room… and that Hiroshi was there… and he said things—harsh, angry, mean, _true_ things—and I got mad. Then it felt like my chest was going to explode, it hurt so bad. I locked myself in the bathroom… and something happened but it's all a blank after that point.

I still sort of hurt all over. It hurts a bit to breathe, in particular. I feel so tired. I never want to move again.

I sigh.

The voices cut off, and a pink head bounces into my sight. "_Yuki_!" It's a half-shriek in the familiar screechy voice.

Shuichi.

"_Yuki_!" you cry out again, even more shrill. I can't help but wince; you're nearly jumping up and down in excitement, but my head hurts and your voice grates on my ears.

And then, to my astonishment, you calm down so quickly it's as though a bucket of ice water is thrown on you. Your voice gets quiet and gentle, which is a lot softer on my aching head. You must have seen me wince; your consideration after the monster I've been to you for years astounds me. I remember what Hiroshi said to me. How could I forget it? And I'm honest enough, with myself and with you, to realize that he's right in so many ways.

"Yuki, how're you feeling? Are you alright?" You reach out and start touching me, soft fingers stroking my hair out of my eyes.

I want to speak. Your concern deserves some response. But all the words Hiroshi said come back to me and hit me like a bludgeon, rendering me speechless. He was so _right_. You would never betray me. You would never sleep with someone else, I know that now. I can see it in your eyes, in the naked worry and guilt in your expression. You would never try to hurt me, but I acted like a selfish and pathetic monster. Hiro's right: someone like me would only ruin someone like you, twist you and make you jaded.

I don't deserve to be with you.

Your eyes are so somber now. "You don't want to talk to me. I understand. After what I did to you…. I'm sorry, Yuki. I'm so sorry." You start to draw back, your eyes filling with tears and downcast.

And, dammit all, this would be the best thing for you. You _should_ be separated from me. I should let you go now without a word to stop you or bring you back. There's such a big world out there, Shuichi, and so many people it'd be better for you to be with. There are so many things for you to discover, and I know that I'm so twisted and messed-up that you'd never discover those things with me. I'll never be able to give you the kind of unconditional love you deserve; I've been through too much and I don't even know if I believe in such a thing. You should leave me! You should have never been with me in the first place. It'd be so easy to let you go now and end this terrible, masochistic relationship.

But…

You think this is all your fault, and it isn't. You blame yourself, but you didn't cause this situation. It's my fault. My insecurity led me to distrust you, even though you've never done a thing to make me suspicious. My twisted and heartless soul made me expect you to be just as warped as I am, even though you're the purest person I know. Someone like you could never do what I accused you of doing. I could be silent and let you go—I _should_—but you'd live the rest of your life certain that you did something wrong, when this was all my fault. And I can't let that happen.

The words blurt out almost before I realize I'm going to speak: "_No_. No, Shu, _no_." My voice is hoarse and weak; my throat hurts.

But you hear me and turn back around.

There's so much naivety in your face. So much hope. And so much fear, too. Are you afraid of me? Or can it be possible that you fear leaving me?

I don't understand, Shuichi. How can someone like you even _want_ to be with me? How could you stay so long by my side, through all the shit I put you through?

I don't understand.

But my hand reaches for you all on its own. I'm surprised to see it's shaking a bit. I'm so weak right now. I'm so weak without _you_.

Your hand is so warm when you carefully enfold mine in a strong grasp. You're stronger than I am right now, and it's not just the weakness of being sick that's done me in. You squeeze my hand, and look at me with eyes that seem to see right through the shell I've hidden inside.

"Yuki, what I did—"

"Shuttup," I growl, because you've done absolutely nothing.

You do, instantly. Your lip quivers. Your hand was holding mine so strongly, but I destroy your strength with one word. I make you so weak that you're on the verge of crying. One word could make you burst into tears right now, and it's my fault. Without me, you're powerful and dazzling, but I drain that right out you until you're so broken down that one word leaves you shaken and cowed. Our relationship's been an emotional rollercoaster for you. You've remained true and devoted to me, but I put you through shit left and right.

And it hurts, now that I understand what I've done to you.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I don't apologize often, and it's hard to get the words to come out. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I just…" I was scared that I'd lost you forever, so terrified that you'd betrayed me and you hated me and our love had been a lie. You've been a pillar of strength holding me up as I struggle to find footing in this treacherous world… and I thought I'd lost you. "I…" I couldn't have gone on without you. Those weeks in that hotel room were weeks of blank existence, not life, and I wanted it permanently ended. I didn't want to think about anything anymore, the pain of your betrayal and Yuki's betrayal all rolled into a huge spear skewering me through the heart. Killing me moment by moment. It hurt too much, and I don't know how long I could have gone on without you. And if I'd only trusted you and believed in you, then neither of us would have had to suffer so much. _You_ wouldn't have had to suffer. "It's my fault... I'm sorry." There's so much more I want to tell you, so much more I want to say. I have so much to apologize for.

But you calmly press my hand when I open up my mouth to go on, and with the sweetest smile I've ever seen, you just say, "I understand." And you reach out one hand and stroke my hair back, and lean forward to lay a gentle kiss on my forehead in a tender gesture that I've never seen from you before. Your eyes are unguarded, but I don't see pain or fear in them anymore. They're glowing with a warmth that's so beautiful I just want to drown in it. And you murmur, "It's okay. It's alright now."

And just like that, things are back to normal. Just like that, the misunderstanding between us is gone, our mutual "crimes" against each other absolved and forgotten. Forgiven and healed through your strength alone, because I don't know if I have the ability to forgive anymore. I know how much I owe you, I understand now how much I depend on you, and I can't forget the pain I've caused us both, nor the fear I felt over the possibility of losing you. Maybe I can even understand Mizuki's interference, now, because I've never until this moment realized just how much I need you. Without you, I was nothing, Shuichi. Without me, you are so strong and brilliant, and I only pull you down… but I need you, and I promise that someday, I'll deserve you.

You throw your arms around my neck in another one of your strangling hugs, and for once I don't feel like pushing you back or making a cynical comment to dull your enthusiasm and get free. I hold you to me, my eyes shut as I savor the acceptance you show me, acceptance of all the flaws I have that make life with me so hard. The forgiveness of all of my insecurities that almost destroyed our relationship. I hold you, and the hate I feel doesn't exist anymore.

And finally, I understand. I thought I hated you all along, but I don't, Shuichi.

Shuichi…

"I love you."

End

* * *

Yes, that is the end. It's kind of sad to post this last chapter up, now. It's kind of like setting a little bird free to fly the skies alone... --sniffle-- Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter, and enjoyed the story overall. I welcome all comments, even death threats for not making this story longer and ending it better. Probably a lot of you will be wondering, "What the heck? Where's the epilogue!" But there isn't going to be one. I wrote this story more as an exposition on Yuki's character than as an actual linear story, which is why most of the POVs revolve around Yuki and some of them don't even follow any kind of timeline. So, as far as I'm concerned, the story's come full circle once Yuki's finally understood and accepted the depth of his feelings for Shuichi. As for the sappiness of the ending, I'm making no apologies. Gravitation isn't Gravitation without _some_ sappinesss, right?

Thank you to each and every one of my reviewers. I really appreciated all the comments and it was great getting feedback for this story. Responses to specific individual comments:

**Sokra** (aka yit-ha): Thank you for the encouragement, and especially for the technical help! And also for the priceless comment, "Le gasp!" --laughs--

**Guren**: Yeah, some people would think Hiro would be easier to write... but it's because he's so well-rounded that I can't write him well; I'm so far from well-rounded myself that I can't get into his mindset! --grins--

**clari chan**: Thanks! I had a ton of fun writing this one (I love angst too!), but I probably won't write any more Gravitation fics. I might patter about in one of the other anime sections, though, so hopefully you might read one of those stories.

**penguinie**: Ha, I hope the suspense didn't kill you, and I hope that this chapter met your expectations.

**Ashley Vulpix**: I agree. You never really get to see characters like Mizuki shine, so I'm glad I could put her in this story. And it's a lucky thing that this story was already written before you sent in your review; I was almost tempted to steal the phrase "coldhearted bastard without a horizon"... heh heh, just kidding.

**nefertari-nz**: --smiles-- I'm really glad you've enjoyed it so far. I hope you liked the last chapter too.

**Ashcat**: lol. Well, it's actually hard to write a _truly_ original piece of fanfiction, if you think about it. I mean, pretty much every combination possible has been done for Gravitation. This story isn't really a Hiro X Shuichi story at heart, though, it's all about Yuki and Shuichi. I just used Hiro because he seemed like the most believable character for Shuichi to have "cheated" with.

And to all other reviewers that I haven't mentioned specifically by name: --bow bow-- Thank you very much.

**

* * *

**

Chibi Traust

Eiri: Get off my neck!

Shu: You said you loved me! --heart heart--

Eiri: It was the drugs! Just the drugs! Aaaugh!


End file.
